The Italian Rose

Eleven:

The deed was done but Anne was positive that she will never tire of Henry's touch, in the weeks that followed they shared almost every night together, some nights it was endless passion and other nights they just slept.

Despite it all, Anne was certain she could not be happier in her life. Perhaps she was a fool, but when she was with Henry... Her sweet and loving Henry, Anne could not bring herself to care.

That was until whispers of the Pope granting the divorce reached her ears, Anne was sure that it was nothing more than childish rumours but when it was proven true as the court was overcome with pretty, youthful and unmarried maidens from all status of nobility, all seemingly battling to catch the King's eye, anger boiled in her blood.
Why did the Pope grant the divorce now? She will never become Queen now since she is the King's Maîtresse-en-titre and a ruined woman.

Anne eyed the King as she danced with George. The King was dancing with a pretty blonde, one that seemed to be capturing his attention.
"Who is she?"
George glanced over at the woman, spinning Anne around before coming to her side again. "Lady Eleanor, her father, brought her to court from France."
"Get rid of her."
"Anne -..."
Anne narrowed her eyes as the dance came to an end. "I do not want to hear it, George. Get rid of her."

______

The Seymours watched with keen eyes as the King's court was overcome with pretty maidens looking to gain the attention of the King at their ambitious father's backing, to either become his Mistress or even Queen as Catherine's days as Queen are numbered.

Sir John Seymour glanced over at his daughters. His second youngest daughter, Elizabeth, is already married to Sir Anthony Ughtred. A happy union from what he has witnessed, so she was unavailable to attend to the King.
His youngest, Margery, was a girl of thirteen. She was not of marrying age nor was she able to entertain the King. His wife would also skin him alive if he even dared to try and place her in the King's way, and John longed to see his grandchildren be born.

The elder Seymour daughters were of marrying age, Dorothy and Jane, though they were complete polar opposites. Dorothy was born with dark hair and brown eyes whilst Jane was born with blonde hair and blue eyes, though sadly they were not beautiful as most ladies of the court, but they would make fine marriageable ladies.

Dorothy was outgoing, flirtatious, and had a suitor or two on a weekly basis, though nothing came of it as John was sure his sons scared the potential suitors off as they would not suit Dorothy well.
Jane was a wallflower, blending in perfectly with the crowd. She reported back to her family what was happening within the Queen's court as she was one of Catherine's ladies.

John Seymour had made sure that his daughters had somewhat of an education, they could read and write a little but their main education was around needlework and household management as it was needed for a woman of their wealth and status.
Jane excelled beyond her sisters with her needlework. The governesses always praised Jane for her embroidery skills, a trait that sadly did not get passed onto her sisters.

"Is it true, Father?" Edward spoke, sipping on his goblet. "The position for Queen is fair game?"
"It is true, the King seeks a new wife as the Pope granted him a divorce from Catherine."
Thomas then spoke up from where he sat, eyeing the nearby ladies, and winked at the closest one, who blushed and hid her face behind her fan. "Imagine if one of our sisters became Queen."
"Which sister are you referring to, Thomas?" Edward asked, arching an eyebrow at his brother. "Margery is too young, Elizabeth is married, Dorothy is too rebellious, and Jane is too meek and delicate to be Queen."

"Obviously, the one that can be easily controlled." Thomas spoke, rolling his eyes and glancing over at Jane. "If we use the same tricks that the Boleyns used, just do not make it so apparent, then Jane has a chance to be Queen. And if she becomes Queen and gives England's its heir, then we would be rewarded greatly. Naturally, Edward and I would be given a title of Lord or Duke, and father would be known as the grandfather to the next King of England."

Sir John glanced over at Jane, who seemed to be having a conversation with Lady Isabella De Angelo. He turned his attention back onto Thomas. "How would you plan to do this?"
"The King has suffered an injury during the summit at the Field of Cloth of Gold. It is not severe, but from what the physician had discussed, the wound would need to be drained. If we somehow get Jane to attend this injury, then he would see her as God's gift to him."

______

Isabella was escorted by her father and some maids. She was curious as to where they were going as everyone seemed to be very secretive.
"Where are we headed, Father?"

Her father gives her a small smile as her sisters, Gabrielle and Lucrezia, covered their mouths in an attempt to stiffle their laughter, Isabella arched an eyebrow but still followed them
"It is a surprise, Bella."

Guards opened the doors, which led into a room decorated with a feast. There, standing at the head table were Queen Catherine and King Henry.
"Happy Birthday, my dear daughter."
Isabella let out a small gasp, stepping forwards, glancing around at the expensive silk tapestries and decorative cushions, plates, and goblets made of gold and silver lined the tables.

"It was not all my doing. Their majesties also had a part in this."
Isabella quickly ducked into a deep curtsey as Henry approached. He helped her rise to her feet. "Lady Isabella."
"Your majesty."
"Come, you are the guest of honour." He spoke, escorting her towards the head table.

Isabella curtseyed at Catherine, who kissed her on the cheeks. "Happy birthday, Lady Isabella."
"I thank you, your majesty."
The music immediately picked up as Isabella locked eyes with Henry, she blushed and glanced at her hands, it was foolish to think that the King would pay her any attention - with how many beautiful ladies were currently in his court, her majesty's plan came to an end since Anne Boleyn will never be Queen of England, unknowingly to everyone, including Isabella that Catherine was leaving hints that her replacement should be Isabella.

"Your majesty, I must thank you for this grand celebrations."
"We are friends, are we not, Lady Isabella?" Henry whispered, earning a small nod from Isabella.

It was at this feast that Isabella sat at the head table with their majesties and her family, where she drank and cheered at the entertainment picked just for her.
Isabella danced with her father, Lord Brandon, her sisters, several eligible bachelors looking to be Isabella's suitor and even his majesty.

It was also at this feast that Isabella noticed that the Boleyns were in attendance, and Henry barely even acknowledged Anne Boleyn's presence.

Isabella began to feel overwhelmed. She stepped away for some fresh air in the gardens. It was here that Isabella found herself not being as alone as she thought.

A pair of familiar hands placed themselves over her eyes, making the girl yelp out in surprise as she pushed away from her assailant, only to find that it was the King.
"Your majesty, you had startled me."
"Forgive me, Lady Isabella, I could not help myself to play a trick."
Isabella blushed, glancing down at the ground, Henry took hold of her chin softly, which made her look back up into his face.

He was about to say something but the sound of two people being lewd in his gardens distracted them, a faint flush of colour danced across Isabella's face as the sounds were not for innocent ears, soon the noises came to a stop and the unknown couple began to dress themselves from the sounds.

The unknown woman was the first to leave. From where Isabella stood, she instantly knew who the woman was.
Anne, the second wife of Edward Seymour, it was rumoured to be a strained marriage as Edward rather focused his attention on his sisters than his own wife.
When the unknown man came into view, Isabella let out a gasp, which gained the man's attention. His eyes widened at the presence of the King and Lady Isabella.
"Your majesty..."
"Philip?" Isabella whispered, gaining Henry's attention.
"You know this man, Lady Isabella?"
Isabella shook her head. "I thought I did, your majesty, I must have been mistaken."
Completely ignoring Philip, Isabella curtseyed at Henry. "I must return. Perhaps my family had noticed my absence and would be searching for me."
Henry nodded, offering her his arm. "Allow me to escort you."

Isabella took his offered arm, and they both headed back inside to the party, leaving an embarrassed Philip behind.